SWNOVELS Unravel Me: Chapter 16
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve wondered why loving ourselves is one of the hardest things we’ll ever do.
Most of the time I find I can do it well. I remind myself of all the amazing things this body has done for me, the gifts it’s given me, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. And then somebody opens their mouth without reason, and they tear your work down in seconds. You stand there in their wake, gripping the love you carry so tightly in your hands, unwilling to let it go. But sometimes the harder you grip it, the easier it is to let it sift through your fingers like sand, falling to your feet.
As I stand in front of the oversized mirror in Adam’s bedroom, my eyes roam the length of my naked body, both the pieces I love every day and the ones I struggle a little extra with some days.
You haven’t been taking very good care of yourself. You’ve gained some weight. It’s been sixteen months. Hit the gym or something.
I close my eyes to words that try so hard to bring shame, hands curling into fists that shake at my stomach as I battle against the temptation to let them win. Because at the end of the day, I know that self-love isn’t being happy with myself, all of me, every single moment. It’s not realistic, and a recipe for failure.
Blowing out a shaky breath, I force my eyes open, force them to drink myself in right here in the mirror.
“I am not somebody else’s opinion of me,” I whisper. “I’m strong. I’m resilient. My heart is big and kind. I’m always learning. I’m the only one of me.” With each word, the tension in my body slowly dissipates, shoulders dropping away from my ears, fingers uncurling as my body drinks in the affirmations like it’s been starved for them, waiting for me to embrace myself, because today, I need a little extra love from me.
Because, I think, self-love is as simple as giving myself grace on the hard days, loving myself extra when I need it.
The bedroom door opens, and I snap the towel off the floor, wrapping it around myself as Adam’s gaze finds me. Heat pools in my cheeks at the way his eyes dim as they rake over me, the curve of his mouth as his long legs eat the distance between us.
“Hi,” I whisper as he comes to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around me, his chin finding a home on my shoulder as he watches me in the mirror.
“Hi, pretty girl.” He chuckles, kissing the heat dotting my cheek. “Connor’s asleep.”
“Thank you so much for doing that. He really loves spending time with you.”
“He makes me feel like I’m doing something right in this life.”
Sizzling fingertips glide up my arms, over my shoulders, before dipping down to my collarbone where I clutch the towel to me. Fire stokes low in my belly, rolling in waves in every direction, the biggest blaze of all settling between my thighs.
I swallow. “You’re doing everything right.”
“Everything?”
I nod, gaze hooked on his reflection as he pries my iron grip from the towel. The plush gray cloth slowly sweeps open, revealing my body inch by aching inch. For a moment, uncertainty takes control, running through me as I scramble to cover my breasts, the softness of my lower belly, the stretch marks that haven’t entirely faded, a scar that never will.
“I nursed Connor for thirteen months,” I blurt as Adam’s fingers circle my wrists, gently opening me up to him. “So, they’re…they’re…”
“Perfect,” he whispers, his soft touch tracing the shape of my breasts, guiding my eyes back to where his watch me so intently, holding nothing but deep appreciation, utter adoration. “They’re perfect, Rosie. Please don’t ever try to convince yourself any part of you isn’t just right, because to me, it’s everything. You. Are. Everything .”
A single tear peels its way down my cheek. When his lips trap it, I turn into his kiss, sinking against him. “I think I really needed to hear that.”
“Do you need to see it too? Feel it?” He lifts my palm to his mouth, pressing lingering kisses there as his fingertips skate across my belly. “Because I want to give you whatever you need. I want you to know exactly where you stand with me, to see yourself exactly the way I see you. The way my heart races when I’m with you, when I touch you, when I get to just fucking…look at you ? I want you to feel that.”
My gaze tracks Adam’s searing one in the mirror. “How would you do that?”
“How about we start with you putting your eyes on yourself? Looking at every piece of you for exactly what it is, appreciating everything it’s done for you. Seeing it for the beauty it is.”
“It’s not always that easy.”
“No,” he agrees. “It’s not. Not when we’re talking about ourselves.” He takes my chin in his hand, runs his thumb across my lower lip. My tongue darts out, chasing its path. “Let me show you what it’s like for me, looking at you. Every single thought leaves my body, except…wow . How fucking lucky am I? I found you, and somehow, you chose me. I get to keep you.”
“Was there any other option? Choosing you? Because it didn’t feel like a choice; it just felt right.”
“Like it was meant to happen? Me and you? That little boy out there?”
“Like we were lost, and you pulled your truck over to the side of the road and asked if we needed a ride. We climbed in and never left.”
Adam grins against my cheek. “I like that. You were made to ride in my passenger seat.”
He rakes his fingers through the strands, twining a rose gold end as he grips my hip. “You paint these honey waves the softest shade of pink because you want to stand out just a little bit. I think it makes you look innocent, sweet, but what makes you stand out…” He sweeps a thumb beneath my eye. “These stunning eyes, the same color as the trees the day we met.” He skims my cheekbone. “And these freckles, the way they light up your face when you smile, come out of hiding after an afternoon in the sun…” The tip of his nose rubs against mine. “This nose, the cutest fucking nose, the way it crinkles when I make you blush.” Capturing my chin, he claims my mouth with the softest brush of his. “And this smile…Jesus, this is what makes you stand out, Rosie. This smile is what I couldn’t tear my eyes from that day in the forest, not the nervous way you chewed it when you looked up at me, the way it grew when you watched that precious dog melt in my lap, the way it transformed every inch of your face when you laughed. I fell for this smile first, because there was no other choice but to fall.”
There’s always a choice , I almost say. And I’ve never been anyone’s .
But Adam shakes his head, a glint in his eyes like he knows exactly where my mind is trying to take me. Like he’s not going to let it.
He grips my neck, bringing my mouth to his, devouring me with a ferocity that steals my breath, lifts me to the tips of my toes, chasing more, everything. “No other choice,” he whispers against my lips before forcing my gaze back to our reflection, where every inch of my nakedness glows red under his scrutiny.
With his eyes locked on mine, Adam steps back, reaching behind him and pulling his shirt over his head. My mouth salivates at the sight of him, miles of tanned, knotted muscles carved to a level of perfection that feels surreal. And as he steps out of his shorts, muscular thighs straining below the immaculate lines of the lion painted there, heat spreads throughout my belly.
Adam steps back into me, palm covering my torso as it glides up, up, hands skimming the sides of my breasts as he dots my shoulder in kisses.
“These,” he murmurs, cupping the weight of them in his hands. “These are perfect. And they fed your son for thirteen months? I don’t ever want to hear you say something negative about something so incredible. And, fuck, are they incredible. Like they were made to fit inside these hands.”
“Adam,” I choke out as his thumbs scrape across my nipples, pulling everything inside me tight. My back arches, pushing myself deeper into his touch, wanting more.
Fingertips dance across my flesh, dipping between my breasts, lower, across my belly, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. Adam’s eyes meet mine as he gently traces the faint stretch marks painted on my skin. Heat pools in my cheeks, begging me to look away, but the look in Adam’s eyes begs me to stay right here with him.
“Tiger stripes,” he wonders out loud. “I understand the term now more than I ever did. A beautiful reminder of the versatility of your body, the way it adapted to grow something so precious. You’re unbelievably strong, Rosie. A mama who’ll do anything for her son, to help him grow and learn surrounded by love, while also showing him what true strength looks like.”
“What does it look like?” I ask quietly as his hands sear across my flesh like a paintbrush on a canvas.
“It’s fierce. Brave. Conquering your fears so you and your son can live without the barriers you see in your mind. But it’s also vulnerability. Honesty. Trust. It’s seeing your faults, your fears, as setbacks and opportunities to grow and learn more about yourself, rather than a dead-end road. It’s moving forward one step at a time, with someone’s hand in yours, holding you tight.”
“I like holding your hand. It makes all those steps a little easier.”
“I feel the same way about holding your hand. But for what it’s worth, Rosie, I think you’d be moving forward with or without me. I’m not your strength. You’re your own strength.” Fingers flutter across the line of my c-section scar, below the softness of my stomach. “If you ever question it, this right here should be all the proof you need that you’re a badass with unmatched strength. Because this scar tells a story. A story of a life you grew, a life you birthed, a family you built all on your own, one anyone would be so lucky to be a part of.”
He pulls me tight against him, encasing me in his warmth and something that feels a lot like love. And me? I sink into it. I embrace all of it, because I think that’s what you do with love. You never know how fleeting it is, after all.
“That’s how I feel, Rosie. Lucky. So damn lucky to be a part of your family, however small a part of it I may be. So grateful you let me into your lives. So grateful for these beautiful green eyes, and the kindest, widest smile that makes my heart feel so full. So grateful for this strong, incredible body that gifted me a tiny little boy I didn’t know I needed, one I’ve fallen in love with. So, thank you, Rosie. If you can’t see yourself for everything amazing you’ve done for you, I hope you can see everything amazing you’ve brought me.”
My heart pounds a relentless beat as Adam takes my shaking hand in his, pulling it back.
“This, Rosie,” he murmurs, pressing my palm above his pattering heart. “It’s all for you.”
I don’t know why it feels so heavy, so deep, like being submerged in water, except it’s the good kind of drowning, where it gives you life instead of stealing it away. Drowning in appreciation, in praise, in words that—for some reason—I know are genuine. The realization is staggering, pulling a shaky breath from my lungs, making my knees wobble as the feel of this man encases me. And when my knees give out, knocking me backward, I feel the heavy press of a bulge against my lower back, the sheer size and weight of it ripping a gasp from my throat.
Adam’s low chuckle skates down my neck. “Yeah, that’s all for you too.”
Fire blooms, crawling along every inch of me as he rakes two searing palms down my sides, grasping my hips so hard it straddles that pleasure-pain line in the most perfect way, like loosening his grip might mean losing me.
“I’d kiss every fucking inch of this body, worship it all, make it my only religion if you’d only let me.” He drags a single fingertip across my shoulder, my collarbone, dipping down to circle one tight nipple. “What do you say, trouble? You gonna let me?”
My back arches, pushing my aching breasts into his capable hands. “Please, Adam.”
He takes the weight of them so easily, squeezing, rolling my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, pulling every sound from my mouth. Hot, wet kisses trail my shoulder, up my neck. He traces each curve, draws a path across my belly, around the fullness of my hips. He dips lower still, and when his touch ghosts past the spot I want him most, my entire body trembles, folding forward from the teasing, the satiety I’ve been denied, and the handsome fucker really chuckles in my ear.
“I like you frustrated,” he tells me, pulling my ass back into him. He dips his hand between my legs, tracing my thighs, and he hums appreciatively as he finds the physical evidence of what he does to me coating me right there.
“I’d like your hand a little higher.”
“Mmm. Is that right?” Fingertips dance closer, so slowly it hurts, a desperate clenching low in my belly. “Here?” he whispers against my ear, sliding his finger through the wetness of my inner thigh.
“Higher, please.”
“Here then.” He traces the juncture of my thigh. “This must be the spot.”
“Adam .” His name is a garbled cry, drowning in desperation. “Please, touch me. I’ll do anything.”
“Such a pretty mouth, begging so nicely. You don’t have to beg though.” Two fingers slip slowly through my folds, giving me exactly what I want as I fall toward the mirror with a whimper, Adam’s mouth at my ear. “I’d never say no to you.”
My mouth opens on a sharp gasp as he pushes two fingers inside me and shows me another side of the man I thought I knew.
Adam is soft and gentle. Every word, every action, is careful and thoughtful. The way he fucks me with his fingers right now, cobalt eyes blazing with heat, with power, is anything but. It’s savage and ruthless, like he owns every inch of this body. Like he wants my body to forever remember the shape of him, the possessive grip on my hip as he holds me to the mirror, the way his hand glides down, grabbing my ass like it was made for him to hold.
“This fucking ass. Nearly forgot to tell you how much I love it.”
“You don’t think it’s too big?” I manage.
“Too big? Is that a thing?” Fingertips dig into the soft flesh, squeezing me in his large palm. “Seems like the perfect size to me. Look how well it fits me.”
“Your hands are huge.”
He gives my ass a swift, gentle smack before sifting through the hair at the nape of my neck, locking our reflected gazes. “And your ass is fucking immaculate.”
A shudder ripples down my spine as Adam’s thumb finds my clit, moving with precision. “Why is you swearing such a turn-on?”
“Why can’t I talk like a gentleman when you’re naked and beneath my hands?”
I grin against his mouth when he steals a kiss. “I like you as a gentleman, but I love when you lose a little composure.”
“Well, thank fuck. Because I feel like I’m losing my fucking mind right now, and you’re the one stealing it.” He drags me away from the mirror, into his looming body. “So come here, trouble. Because if you’re stealing my mind, I get yours.”
The thrust of his fingers edges closer and closer to feral as they move faster, pump deeper, hitting a spot inside me nobody’s ever found. Heat climbs up my chest and wraps around my throat like a vine as my breath comes in heavy spurts.
I can’t take my eyes off Adam, the way his body looks behind mine, a home I’ve been searching for, a shelter I’ve craved. The way his electric blue eyes move over me, memorizing, reverent, like he’s in utter awe.
The ferocity lurking beneath his hooded lids pulls everything inside me tight. He wraps his hand around my throat, guiding my eyes to his in the mirror, his hand moving between my slick thighs.
“Fuck, Rosie. Look at you, pretty girl, dripping all over my fingers. Such a good girl, but you wanna be a little bit bad, don’t you?”
“Just for you,” I manage on a gasp.
“Yeah,” he rasps, hot breath rolling down my neck, shaking my spine with a shiver. “Just for me.” He presses his lips to my temple. “Can you do one more?”
“One more?” An edge of panic creeps into my voice, because this man’s hands are large , his fingers thick . I’ve been with one man, and…well, he sure wasn’t anything like Adam.
“One more,” he repeats, gently easing another finger in, holding me close while I gasp at the intrusion, stretching around him. “That’s my beautiful fucking girl, taking my fingers. Soon, it’ll be my cock.”
“Oh God,” I cry, and my soul starts leaving my body. “Adam .”
“I love the feel of your pussy squeezing my fingers when you’re close. And you’re close, Rosie, aren’t you?”
I rock against his touch, clutching at his hand as I try to answer him. “So…so…mmm …”
“Close,” he finishes for me, the single word dipped in mirth and a bit of arrogance. His fingers dive deeper, faster, his thumb strumming my aching clit, and everything inside me starts unraveling as Adam works his hot, wet mouth down the slope of my neck before whispering his command. “Come on my fingers so you can come again on my tongue.”
On his tongue? But I’ve never—
“Now , Rosie.” He punctuates his order with the curl of his fingers, the firm press of his thumb to my clit, and something inside me snaps. Stars explode behind my eyelids, but Adam gently squeezes my throat, and my gaze snaps to his. “Those eyes belong to me when you’re coming for me. Who are you coming for?”
“You.” He tilts my head over my shoulder, and when our gazes collide, I come all over his hand, giving him the words he wants before he takes my mouth too. “God, Adam, you .”
Large hands grip my waist, flipping me around and pressing me against the mirror. He drops his forehead to mine, both of us nothing but heaving chests, staggered breaths, shaking hands. Beyond the sound of our heavy breathing, I note the quiet, slow drip, drip, drip beyond Adam’s opened French doors, leading to his balcony. The clouds break, and the setting sun basks Adam in an amber glow, lighting him like the god I think he is.
“The rain stopped,” I whisper, and my hands tremble as they slip down his abdomen to his hips, where I tuck my fingers into the waistband of his underwear, inching it down, and—
“Oh Jesus Christ.” I jump backward, one hand at my throat, the other pointing at…at…“Holy motherforking…shirtballs .” My gaze jumps to his. “That is…I mean, that is just…” I point at his cock, shake my finger at it, then clap one fist into my opposite hand to distract from the that I’m freaking the fuck out. I clear my throat. “Massive. That is…massive, my friend. Wheeew.” Bending over, I grip my knees and try to breathe.
“You okay?” he asks, and I hate the sparkle of humor in his eyes.
“Adam, I can’t possibly…that won’t…” Shaking my head, I take a step back, then another, and on the third, I trip over my feet, catching myself off the edge of Adam’s mattress. He laughs, darting forward to help me up, I think, but I’ll never know for sure, because I skitter up onto the bed and crawl away from him as fast as I possibly can.
“Get back here,” he says on a laugh, catching my ankle. He flips me onto my back and drags me to the edge of the bed, wearing the filthiest, hottest fucking smirk I’ve ever seen. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Literally anywhere but near that dick.
I had a c-section because Connor’s head wasn’t fitting through my pelvis, and this man thinks his cock is somehow going to work its way through? Sure, a cock isn’t a nine-pound, twelve-ounce baby. And, yeah, it’s not taking the exact same path, but, Jesus motherfuck…
I throw my hands in the air. “I think you’re bigger than that underwear model on the bus stop shelter!”
“I definitely am.”
“That’s not fitting anywhere. Not in my mouth, and not in my vagina. You know that, right?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Things have a way of working themselves out.”
“‘Things have a way of working themselves out?’ What the hell does that mean?”
“It means we’ll make it fit.”
“Make it fit,” I mumble, arms out wide on the bed. I’ve given up. Resigned to my impending doom that is this man’s cock, in and around any portion of my body tonight and in the future, whether it be my mouth or my vagina. All I know is this: there will be no survivors. “We’ll make it fit. Okay, yeah, I’m sure that’ll just—whoa !”
All the air in my body leaves me as Adam scoops me up and tosses me over his shoulder, eating the distance to the balcony. He throws open the doors and steps into the humid evening, the air fresh and earthy from an afternoon of rain, and when he sets me on my feet, the blur of rainbow smearing the pink and orange sky steals every one of my worries.
“It’s gorgeous,” I murmur as he steps behind me, wrapping himself around me.
“Gorgeous sunset for my gorgeous girl.” His lips move over my neck. “You’re gonna watch that sky while I taste you.” He brushes his thumb over the sudden blaze of heat on my cheekbones. “What’s this blush for?”
“You don’t have to do that.” I hate the softness in my voice, the shame that someone else put there because he didn’t do that. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay.”
“There’s nothing I want more than to taste you; I promise you.” He tips my chin up, eyes searching mine over my shoulder. “Have you never done this before?”
I shake my head.
“Selfishly, I’m happy to be your only. I’ll make it so good, Rosie. I promise.”
“No, but—” I whip my head left, then right. Adam’s property is huge, an expansive oasis of lush green trees and high fences that offer nearly all the privacy you could want. But from up here on his balcony, I can see the houses nestled on either side of us, so I drop my voice as if they might somehow hear us. “Someone might see.”
There’s that smirk again, though he dips his head to hide it. He sits on the oversized lounger and lifts me onto his lap, wrapping my legs around him. At the thick, heavy feel of him pressed against me, right where I want him most, I dig my nails into his shoulders.
Adam threads his fingers through my hair before pulling me forward, fusing his mouth to mine. There’s a slowness in this kiss, something unhurried and patient. But behind it, there’s a hunger so deep I feel it in every sweep of his tongue, the way he sighs into my mouth, the slight shake to his hands. And the longer we kiss, the hotter every part of me grows, until I’m perched on my knees, pushing him down to his back, rolling my hips, wringing whimpers from the deepest parts of me, not caring who might see.
I don’t know where this is going tonight. I thought I wanted more time, but with him below me, the way he claims every piece of me as his with the skim of his hands along my body, I feel ready.
“Nobody can see,” he promises against my mouth. “But if you’re loud enough, they’ll hear. Do you wanna be loud, Rosie?”
“Yes,” I groan.
“Good.” He spreads out over the cushions and yanks me forward, spreading my thighs and setting my knees on either side of his face. “Tell them you’re mine.”
One lick. That’s all he gives me. Treacherously slow, from the bottom all the way to the top, looking like a tragically beautiful masterpiece below me with his eyes locked on mine, and then all traces of my gentle Adam are gone. The man with his face between my thighs shows me how starved he is, his fingertips biting into the soft flesh of my ass as he rocks my hips back and forth, his tongue delving deep, inciting a pleasure I never knew was possible.
“Ohhh God.” I grip his curls tight in my fists, unable to look anywhere but at him as he devours me. “So…mmm, Adam. So good .”
“Thinking the same thing, baby.” He sucks my clit into his mouth in a way that crushes my soul. “So. Fucking. Good .”
I lean into the ride, one hand in his hair, the other reaching back, balancing on his thick thigh as my pelvis rolls against his mouth. It’s the sight of his cock that does me in, standing so tall, so proud, when everything he’s doing is all for me.
He’s enjoying this . Making me feel good, it makes him feel good too. And that…that does something to me. It’s not a chore; it’s a choice. And by the feel of his hands on me, the way his moans vibrate against me…I’d say it’s a choice he’d happily make again and again.
“Adam.” Reaching behind me, I fist his cock. It pulses in my hand, and Adam’s body jolts below me as he hisses, tugging at my clit. “I want to turn around.”
“You don’t have—”
“I want to suck your cock, please.” It’s part plea, part whine, and a whole lot of pout, but it sure as shit does the trick. One second our eyes are locked, and the next I’m being absolutely manhandled as Adam flips me around, my ass in the air before he jerks it back down on his face.
Adam fists my hair, holding me above him, my back bowed as I ride his face, his cock gripped tightly in my hand.
“You want it?” His mouth moves over the curve of my ass, wet kisses and teasing nips that drive me toward the brink. “Ask nicely.”
“Please,” I beg on a whimper as his tongue returns right where it belongs, driving me mad. “Please, Adam.”
“What do you want?”
“Your cock.”
“Good girl,” he whispers, guiding me forward with his hand on my hip. “You can have it.”
It’s a distracting sight, Adam’s muscular thighs flexing below me, his thick length throbbing in my small hand. He’s rock hard, and I watch with wonder as a bead of cum decorates the head of his cock while I slowly stroke him. I lean forward, flicking my tongue over that glistening drop, smiling when he groans against me.
He’s always so in control, but these tiny fissures, giving me a glimpse at the man below, the one craving to just let go, make me want to unravel all of him, see what’s hiding beneath the calm façade.
So I grip the base of his cock and lick, from the bottom all the way to the top, slow, before swirling my tongue around the head. His thighs strain and his toes curl, and when I slowly swallow as much of him as I can, his fingertips bite into my ass.
“Fuck, Rosie.” His grip on me trembles, and as his cock hits the back of my throat, his mouth falls away from me, the most beautiful throaty moan falling from his lips.
Rough palms slide up my sides before he drags them down my back, grabs my ass, and spreads me wider. Something breaks, his final tether, maybe, because every hint of gentleman disappears as he eats me like a man who’s been starved for too long, lost in the desert for weeks on end. And when he thrusts his thumb inside me from behind, my whole world fades away to nothing.
“Ohhh…fuck . Adam. I-I-I…” My eyes roll up, up to the mountains, the sunset painting the sky as I struggle to breathe, struggle to keep my mouth on him. “God, Adam .”
“That’s my loud girl. Tell them who you belong to.”
But he belongs to me, too, and I want everyone to know.
I take him into my mouth again, matching the rock of my hips, the thrust of his thumb, the lap of his tongue. We’re nothing but panting breaths, biting fingernails, strangled gasps, and low moans.
Adam rips his mouth away, taking his thumb with him before replacing it with two deep fingers that have me crying out. “Christ, Rosie. So fucking good. You’re a masterpiece, riding my face.”
I groan around his cock as he pulls out his fingers, swiping them across my ass before he gives it a swift smack and dives right back in with his tongue. I’ve never felt anything like this, the soft, velvety slide of his tongue, the gentle tug of his teeth in exactly the right place, the plush press of his lips in my most intimate place. It’s a taste of heaven that leaves me fiending for more, for it to never end. Everything inside me pulls taut, ready to snap, and I’m so desperate. Desperate to give all of me to this man, for him to see it, to take it, to…love it.
“Give me everything, Rosie. Come for me, baby.”
And how can I not? With his hands on my hips holding me tight, and his tongue all over me, I cave. It’s like walking to the edge of a mountain, looking down at all that beauty below you, closing your eyes, and just…jumping. Letting go. Free-falling into oblivion, and loving every moment of it. There’s not a care in the world about who might see, or who might hear, because in the moment I know: every inch of me belongs to this man somehow, the one wringing every drop of pleasure for me as I call out his name.
He pulls away, replacing his mouth with his fingers, pulling a second orgasm from me without pause. “Rosie,” he rasps, his hips jerking as he slides in and out of my mouth. “I’m gonna come.” He tugs on my hips, trying to pull me off. “You gotta move, baby.”
But I don’t want to. I want to give him everything he gave to me.
His fingers curl inside me as he wrings another earth-shattering orgasm from my body when I thought I had nothing left to give. Digging his fingers into my hips, he holds onto me while letting go of everything else, spilling inside my mouth as he bites down on the soft flesh of my ass.
“Fuck ,” he growls, picking me up, tossing me down to the lounger.
He crawls overtop of me, the ferocious look in his eyes telling me he’s not even close to satiated. A wicked smile tugs at his lips as he grasps the nape of my neck and lifts my mouth to his, where he murmurs his next words before we dive right in for round two.
“Fucking love the way you taste when you unravel for me.”
“You, on my balcony, drinking wine under the stars, wearing nothing but my T-shirt.”
I tip my head back on Adam’s chest, peering up at him. He’s already looking at me, one hand holding the stem of his wine glass, the other trailing a path over my bare thigh. He’s wearing a pair of dark-rimmed glasses because he wanted to look at every single picture of Connor I’ve ever taken, and it ramps up the fuck me factor to a whopping one hundred out of ten, but really, I’ve stopped counting. The man’s fuck me score is off the charts.
His large hand brackets my jaw as he drops his mouth to mine. “My version of paradise.”
“If this is paradise, could we stay here forever?”
“I’d happily stay anywhere you were.” He dips his hand beneath the T-shirt I wear, trailing the tip of his finger over my stomach. “What I wouldn’t give to have seen you when you were pregnant. Bet you were a goddamn masterpiece.”
“I ate a lot of hot fudge sundaes, extra hot fudge. It was an addiction.”
“I’d have happily fed that addiction.”
“You would’ve contributed to the number of stretch marks, huh?”
“Tiger stripes,” he murmurs against my shoulder, my neck. “And I would’ve spent each night kissing them too.” He sets our glasses down and spins me around, wrapping my legs around him before he stands and carries me through the French doors, past Bear snoozing on a cushion in the corner of the room. Laying me down on his bed, he lifts his T-shirt off me and crawls overtop of me. “I could spend all night kissing them now.”
“I think you’ve done that already.” The words leave me a whimper as his mouth moves up my thighs, over my hips, across my stomach, covering my imperfections with tenderness.
“Just want to make sure you know how much I appreciate this body and everything it’s done and continues to do.”
“You make me feel very appreciated,” I promise quietly. “More appreciated than I’ve ever felt.”
The soft words bring Adam’s eyes to mine, and I look away.
“Hey,” he whispers, angling my face to him. “I wish you wouldn’t feel like you need to hide away with me. We’re partners now, Rosie. You and me. And I can’t be the best partner I can if you don’t feel safe with me.”
“It’s just…a little embarrassing.”
His gaze softens, and he moves to the pillows, sitting me against his chest. He tips my chin, bringing my eyes to his. “I like you for everything you are, all the pieces you’ve shown me, and the ones you try to hide too. I know our insecurities exist for a reason, but there’s nothing you need to hide from me.”
I sink into the safety of his words and give him mine. “Brandon said I needed to lose weight. That I needed to take better care of myself, because I was setting a bad example for Connor.”
“Fuck off.” Adam buries his face in my hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I just—no, I’m not sorry. That guy needs to fuck right off. Is he for fucking real?”
Laughter bubbles and tension eases. “I love when you say fuck .”
“Good, because I’m really fucking mad right now.”
“Don’t be mad for me.”
“Too late. Nobody has any right to talk about someone else’s body.”
“He said having a c-section was the easy way out, that I couldn’t use the I had a baby excuse anymore.”
Adam grumbles a string of curses under his breath, and something that sounds a whole lot like, “Gives him the greatest gift of his life just to throw it back in her face,” before he squeezes me tighter, covers my shoulder in kisses. “I’m sorry somebody said something so hurtful and careless. You’re beautiful, inside and out, and you don’t need to change a thing.”
I sweep his curls off his forehead, feeling the rough stubble along his jaw before I press my lips to his. “Everything is easier when you’re around. It’s easier to love myself exactly where I’m at, because you appreciate all of me.”
“You are the strongest, kindest, most beautiful person I’ve ever known. How could I not appreciate you?” He lies down, pulling me against him, his face in my neck. “I’ve been dying to do this since our first kiss. Think it’s gonna be the best sleep I’ve ever had, and I’ll never let you go again.”
I don’t think I want him to, because as sleep threatens to pull me under, lulling me toward a peace I haven’t known in ages, there’s one thing I know with certainty.
This is how you fall in love.